Angels and Demons
by AthenaandArtemis
Summary: He's the son of a Death Eater and also one himself. She's the daughter of the world's greatest Auror, Voldemort's number one target. He's on a dangerous mission everyone expects him to fail though failure is not an option. He cannot let her distract him, but he also can't stay away. Her love is his driving force and his saving grace. If he can be saved.
1. Chapter 1

_Angels and Demons_

**DISCLAIMER**: We do not own any piece of the Harry Potter universe portrayed here. That right belongs exclusively to J. K. Rowling.

**Title**: Draco Malfoy: Angels and Demons

**Pairing (s):** Draco Malfoy/ Angelique Black ; Harry Potter/ Ginny Weasley ; Ron Weasley/ Hermione Granger

**Summary**: He's the son of a Death Eater and also one himself. She's the daughter of the world's greatest Auror, Voldemort's number one target. He's on a dangerous mission everyone expects him to fail though failure is not an option. He cannot let her distract him, but he also can't stay away. Her love is his driving force and his saving grace. If he can be saved.

**Rating**: Strong Sexual Content. You have been warned.

* * *

**ONE**

September 1, 1996

Angelique Black turned away from her family, feeling utterly alone. She watched her twin brother, Nathaniel, her cousin, Harry, Harry's girlfriend, Ginny, and his best friends Ron and Hermione file into an empty compartment, filling it to capacity a few moments later when their other friend, Neville, joined them. As always, the compartment did not have enough room for her. She should be used to it by now, she supposed. It had happened every single year. They never even bothered to ask whether she had someone else to sit with, which they knew she didn't. They just naturally assumed she would prefer to be alone. And why should they decide to think any differently? It suited their purposes, didn't it? They assumed she'd want to be alone so they wouldn't have to sit with her. It wasn't hard to see.

She stared blankly at the door as it closed, silencing the sounds of laughter and friendship, as she clutched the handle of her trunk tightly with numb fingers. Eventually she began to walk aimlessly down the train, knowing even as she checked that there would be no free compartments. And no one wanted to sit with weird little Angelique. On her third trip down the train, she finally gave up and lowered her trunk to the floor before sitting down across the worn leather and resting her chin in her hand. She sat there, staring out at the rows of compartments filled with best friends excited over their reunions, first years who were nervous and excited about their first day at Hogwarts, couples in the throes of love, family members arguing playfully with each other… She didn't belong with any of them. She didn't belong at all.

"I don't have time for this." A deep, male voice disturbed the silence as a nearby compartment door slammed shut and a man stormed out into the hall, leaning against the wall next to her. "What are you staring at?"

Angelique didn't even glance at the Slytherin standing beside her. "My feet." He'd leave soon. They all did. Actually…this one was different from the others. First he'd ridicule her…for her hair or her piercings, maybe her family, her clothes, or the fact she was in Gryffindor… One of them, or a combination, or perhaps all of it. Only then would he leave.

He glanced over at her, taking in the sight of her sitting on an old trunk, staring off into space. "Why are you out here?"

"Selling tickets to the freak show," she said tonelessly. "Unfortunately, I'm sold out. Better luck next time."

He scoffed, resting head back against the wall. "Maybe next time I'll be performing," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Don't you have anywhere to go?"

"Alas, they seem to have misplaced my cage."

He looked down at her again, fighting a smirk. "You've got an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Grindylows." She leaned back against the wall just as he had, stretching out her long legs and crossing them at the ankles.

"Where's your brother?"

"Not here."

"Obviously. There's no one out here…"

"To my knowledge there are one and a half people out here."

"A half?"

"Haven't you heard? I'm half vampire. Or was it hag? I can't remember."

"If you were a vampire, you wouldn't be sitting in a train full of sunlight…and hags are ugly, old women…which doesn't seem to fit either."

"Perhaps it was banshee then." It was hard to keep track of all the rumors that circulated about her.

"I don't know. I've never heard you scream."

"Stick around. Shouldn't be long."

"Good to know. I'll keep that in mind. I recently broke up with a banshee…It's not pretty."

"Banshees don't take kindly to broken hearts." She looked up at him for the first time and he couldn't look away from those grey eyes so full of mysteries.

"I suppose no one would."

"I don't know. Some people enjoy being miserable."

"That sounds a bit contradictory."

"I didn't say it made sense."

"Well, I do not." He scowled at himself. "Why am I even talking to you?"

"That would be a question only you can answer." Her grey eyes shifted away and she lowered her chin into her hand palm again. He found himself sneering, running a hand through his hair. He debated with himself for a moment, then sat down on the floor. Angelique decided to ignore him, busying herself with counting the number of chips in her nail polish.

"You're not all that strange, really. I mean, you _are_…but in a different way than everyone seems to think."

"You mean you _don't _think I'm going to turn you into pie?" She asked, creating another chip with her thumbnail.

"It's possible. I would make a delicious pie…"

"Your meat's too lean for me."

"Well…I don't know if I should take affront to that…"

She merely shrugged, slowly peeling away a layer of black paint. Watching her, he hesitated, ruffling his hair again. "Your mother must be quite busy lately."

"That's what happens when you have ten kids."

"That's…not what I meant…"

She glanced up at him once, briefly, before turning back to her slender hands. "I know."

"Ten?"

"Plus two."

"That seems a bit excessive And with…recent activity…Do you…um…hear much about her work?"

"I know just as much as you do…"

"Right."

"If you want to find out about what my mother is up to, I suggest you consult a newspaper," she told him, unimpressed with his searching. "Rita Skeeter seems to know more about her than I do."

"Rita Skeeter doesn't always get it right."

Angelique snorted at that. When had Rita Skeeter ever gotten anything right?

"Forget I said anything."

Her dark lashes fluttered as she blinked over at him, as though seeing him for the very first time. "I'm sorry, did you say something? I didn't notice you sitting there."

He smirked, reaching up to adjust his tie. "You're a lot better to talk to than your brother."

"Nathaniel's afraid of snakes."

"Odd, considering he is one…"

"Actually he's a phoenix."

"What?"

She shook her head, her cherry red and recently dyed sea foam green curls swaying around her face. "Nothing."

"You still haven't said why you're sitting out here by yourself."

She sighed, her grey eyes drifting closed. "People are afraid of me," she admitted, though she couldn't say why.

"There are a lot more important things to be afraid of."

"People will always be more afraid of the monster under the bed than the stranger at their door."

"You're just a girl. Why would anyone be afraid of you? Especially when there are real evils everywhere."

"Beats the fuck out of me."

"I'm obviously not the least bit put off."

"You're probably the only one in the world." Which made absolutely no sense because he was Draco _Malfoy _and he was supposed to hate her.

"What happened to Gryffindor courage and chivalry?" he asked her.

"Ask a Gryffindor." She'd been told enough times she was in the wrong house to pretend she understood what everyone else was thinking.

"I did."

"I would pretend to know but I'm not a Ravenclaw."

"You seem to the only brave Gryffindor lately."

"It's the firewhiskey, I assure you."

"Have any left?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether I want to get off my ass or not."

"I see. Well, if you decide you don't, I have some anyway."

Angelique had to bite back a smile as she laid her head down on her knees. She should not be finding any of this amusing. But she did.

"Did the trolley already come through? I hadn't been paying attention."

"Not yet," she mumbled against her knees. "You want something? I've got more candy than the Easter bunny."

"What's the Easter bunny?"

This time she did smile, shaking her head again. "Nevermind." Trying not to chuckle, she rose from the trunk and flipped it open. There was, indeed, more candy than the trolley offered, piles and mountains of every type of sweet he'd ever seen as well as some he'd never heard of. Among the piles of candy were two unopened bottles of firewhiskey, a couple of water bottles full of green tea, and some fireworks. It took him a moment to realize it, but a pair of red lace panties was wrapped around one of the bottles of alcohol.

He had to fight a smile as he looked down into her trunk. "Where did you get so much candy?"

"I think the better question is where _didn't _I get so much candy?" She gave him a wink and began to dig through the treasure trove.

"Are you willing to share? Honestly, I haven't had a caramel crème in years…"

She quickly located four of the soft, brown and white candy and tossed them to him, still searching for her own.

"Thank you."

"Firewhiskey?" She offered him one of the bottles, the one with the red panties wrapped around them. "Don't worry," she added. "Those have never been worn."

"Damn. All of my hopes up in flames." He took the bottle, settling into the corner with it.

"Mine too. Those were a gift."

"Why haven't you worn them then?"

"Because my boyfriend is a fuckwit with no taste." She took the panties from him and unrolled them, glaring down at the offending crimson material the same color as her hair. "There's way too much fabric," she stated, then tossed them back to him before shutting her trunk with a snap.

"Too much?" He regarded her with one brow raised. She merely raised her own in silent challenge. Draco smirked as he opened the bottle of firewhiskey, tilting it to his lips. The lace of the panties in his hand tickled his fingers as the liquid rushed down his throat, burning and singing. He glanced down at the candy in his other hand. "I didn't even think they made these anymore…"

"I've got my ways," she said, reaching for the alcohol. He returned it to her, leaning his head back against the wall once more. They lapsed into silence after that, passing the bottle back and forth between each other. For some reason, Draco found himself staring at the scrap of lace in his hand more often the more he drank. He glanced at her, trying to picture her in them. _Too much fabric? _If this tiny swatch of see-through lace was "too much fabric"…what did she have on beneath that skirt? He blamed his curiosity on the alcohol…but he couldn't help licking his lip at the thought. What if she wasn't wearing anything…?

"So you have a boyfriend?"

"Did."

He nodded, gulping down more of the potent alcohol. "I had a girlfriend…but I have way too much to worry over without having to pacify her."

"Yeah, well apparently _I'm _too much of a freak for the boy with the pierced butt cheeks," she said as she shifted on the trunk. That skirt was _really _short, wasn't it?

"Pierced buttcheeks? That's fucked up."

"He thought it would be funny." She laughed at the memory, a warm, rich sound. "He cried for three days. The pussy."

"He sounds like a dumbass…"

She drank a bit more of the firewhiskey before saying, "He was, honestly. I got my hips pierced and never made a sound. He was such a wannabe."

"Your hips?"

"Yeah." She gestured low on her abdomen with both hands to two spots on either side of her belly button.

"Cool." He studied her further for a moment, growing more and more intrigued. "Is that your name spelled out on your ear?"

Angelique nodded, raising one black tipped finger to trace the tattoo and piercing in the ear in question.

He leaned closer to look at it. One ear bore the name "Angelique" in black script, running vertically down to her lobe. Taking up the width of the top of her ear was a bright red and silver phoenix earring. The other ear bore her surname, Black. The letters "Bl" were at the top with three little silver star piercings in the middle, followed by the letters "ack".

"Brilliant," he murmured.

"Thanks," she said and looked over at him, licking her lips. His eyes followed the movements before he tipped the bottle of firewhiskey to his lips again. Unable to bear the proximity, Angelique leaned away as he studied the three stars in the middle of her ear.

"Does that mean anything or is it just random?"

"It's an obscure reference to an obscure goddess."

"Which one?"

"Hecate, goddess of the night." She swallowed more firewhiskey and for some reason he began to wonder if he could get away with digging through her trunk to see just what kind of underwear she considered good enough to wear. He bit his lip, leaning further away.

"That must be some good firewhiskey."

"Extra potent."

If he asked to look for more caramels…Perhaps…"I'm definitely feeling it…You've any more candy in that trunk of wonders?"

Angelique slid off of the trunk to the floor and opened the lid. "Feel free to explore."

He licked a bit of alcohol off his lip then began digging through the trunk. There was _a lot _of candy and he dug aimlessly for what felt like forever before his hand connected with silk beneath the mountain. He pushed aside some of the candy as his hand closed around the silk. "You've got quite a sweet tooth…"

"I'm a dentist's nightmare," she chuckled.

What was this? Fuck…it was _tiny_. A triangle of smooth fabric attached to…Oh _Merlin…_was that a _thong_? He _must _be really drunk, because he was imagining her in it…and she looked good… He pulled the scrap of fabric out of the trunk and stuffed it in his pocket, vowing to examine it in full later, when she wasn't there. He grabbed a piece of candy he'd never even seen before and sat back. He was definitely very drunk. As he leaned back in his corner, his eyes roamed over her body as he stuffed the candy into his mouth. Everyone knew she was the sexiest woman at Hogwarts, though that did little to boost her popularity. He'd never really seen her up close before and now that he was really looking…It was hard to look away. Her curly hair, the color of rubies, flowed down around her, so incredibly long. She'd dyed it recently, a streak of pale green right next to her face, but it didn't distract from the beautiful, shiny locks. He loved her skin, silky smooth and soft looking, the color of snow. His eyes snagged on her breasts…large and perky, straining the material of her black sweater. Long legs stretched out in front of her and he'd noticed when she was shifting around on the trunk and floor that she had a tight but round rear…And he bet that wasn't the only part of her that was nice and tight…

He licked his lip. Fucking drunk…but she _did _look good...quite sexy in a way that got his heart pounding. He couldn't help but try to picture the piercings she'd mentioned…Which prompted images of her wearing the thong in his pocket…and nothing else.

She passed the bottle back to him and he took another swig of the liquor. "Why hasn't anyone come through here?"

She shrugged and soon laid her head down on her trunk, smothering a yawn. He grinned as he watched her. Damn…she was _sexy_…He stretched his legs out in front of him, unable to look away from her. "Why'd you share with me?"

"'Cause I have no one else to share with," she mumbled sleepily, shoving a lock of green hair behind her ear.

"Thanks. How come, though? You're the most interesting person I've talked to all day…"

"'Cause…I'm Angelique Black…Hogwarts's very own one woman freak show."

"You're not a freak."

"Well…I _am _a weirdo…" She stretched her arm out across the trunk, resting her head on her shoulder. Her fingers grazed his arm. "No offense, but you're the last person I would expect to defend me."

He shrugged his shoulders, leaning against her trunk. Her eyes opened after a minute and she studied him silently. What was she thinking? He met her gaze but her eyelids quickly slid down to hide the grey depths. He watched her for a moment before closing his own eyes and resting his head back. It wasn't until the train rolled to a stop hours later that he realized he'd dozed off.

He jerked up, rubbing his eyes as he stood. How could he have fallen asleep like that? Anyone could have seen him…sitting there with _her_. Angelique Black, the freak. He could still taste the alcohol…she'd given him firewhiskey…His hand delved into his pocket, fingering the silken thong. How stupid could he be? He'd let her get under his defenses, allowed her to get him drunk. And who knew what else was in that firewhiskey or the candy. If he couldn't handle a teenage girl, how could he ever have a chance to…no…he _had _to…

He turned his back to her, determined to pretend this had never happened. She was insane…a freak and an outcast…_No one _in the school could stand to be around her. Not even Loony Lovegood. Not even her own brother.

But he had…it hadn't even been all that bad…She was strange but…not as weird or frightening as everyone seemed to believe. She was…fun and witty…and sexy…Merlin, he had to stop thinking about her. Hard to do when he had her thong in his pocket and his fingers were curled around it.

Why in the hell would he do something so foolish? He glanced at her as the students began to file out of the train. Because he'd been drunk and she'd caught him by surprise.

He sighed, leaving her behind. One of the most important years of his life and he'd already fucked up.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

That night, Draco fell into bed sober and depressed. He tried to keep his mind off Angelique, had been struggling all day with it. And the thought that her rolled up scrap of silk was still in his pants pocket, just a few feet away, wasn't helping his mood at all.

He shoved his pillow over his head, trying to focus on other matters, but it was nearly impossible to get out of the circuitous thought pattern he'd fallen into. _Dammit_. It was that damn girl's fault. If she hadn't made that remark…He scowled, sitting up with an air of defeat as he pulled her panties from his pants pocket, clenching them tightly as he lay back. He felt them with his fingers before opening his hands to look at them. Royal purple silk attached to black satin ribbons with a big black bow at the back he quickly realized would hang down just above her buttcheeks.

He bit his lip as he stared at them. He was holding Angelique Black's underwear…definitely an all-time low. But…he couldn't help feeling turned on…

Angelique…so she was a little quirky…but it'd be fun to just talk to her a bit every now and then…The hyper sexual side of himself thought it would be _much _funner to see her in this thong. He shivered, feeling the fabric between his fingers. He'd love to see her piercings…among other things.

Was this what she normally wore under that sinfully short skirt…? She was such a free spirit…perhaps…sometimes…she didn't wear anything at all. And maybe he'd get the chance to check. Maybe.

He laid back against the pillow, folding his hand around the thong on his chest. His mind continued to revolve around the Gryffindor girl he'd ridiculed all his life. She had made it so easy over the years to insult her. It had begun as early as her first train ride to Hogwarts. She'd showed up with pet animals in her pockets and a handcuff on each wrist. She still wore those same handcuffs. He'd noticed early on how everyone seemed to be intimidated by her. Her first few years she spent her free time with students in the sixth and seventh years, students much older than her, all of them male. That had prompted speculation early on about her mental state. But when her last older friend graduated in her third year, she had not been seen with any other boys. She hadn't been seen with anyone, in fact. She had no friends, and even her siblings seemed to be too busy with their own companions to pay much attention to her. But she had never seemed to mind…She'd always seemed so self-assured, so confident. All the insults, the taunts and jeers, the rumors, seemed to slide right off her shoulders like water. She'd been lost in her own little world, seemingly oblivious to everyone around her.

Draco rolled onto his side, clutching the silk in his hand as he stared blankly at his bed curtains. Reflecting on what he'd seen today, his fingers unconsciously stroked the satin bow. She'd been utterly alone when he found her. He'd asked her repeatedly why she wasn't sitting with someone, if she had somewhere to sit. True, they weren't exactly friends, but she had intentionally avoided the question each time he asked. Except for the once, when she told him people were afraid of her. He knew everyone avoided her. But had it always been because of fear? She was strange but not frightening…And where had her family been all that time? Not once had anyone come looking for her. Her brother was a protective git, always sticking up for his family and friends. Why had he not grown curious as to her whereabouts? And Potter, too. The Gryffindor brat had been raised with Angelique and Nathaniel's family. Their parents were _best friends _for Salazar's sake. Granger and Weasley, both Weasleys, followed his every move. Once again, he wondered why she had been abandoned, left alone to sit at the back of the train on her trunk instead of in a compartment surrounded by people.

He sighed miserably, wondering why he even cared. He'd never defended her, had never held a conversation with her. As far as their relationship went, and he used the term as loosely as possible, it was built entirely on him hurling insults at her as she walked by him, not responding, not caring at all. That was it. They had not interacted beyond that. Ever. Until now.

Draco jerked his pillow over his head, trying in vain once more to push her from his mind. But he couldn't. He was intrigued by her. He'd enjoyed getting drunk with her. It had been fun even. And her conversation had been the best he'd had in a good long while.

But she was dangerous. He knew he shouldn't even consider befriending her. To do so would cause so many complications in a life that was already not his own to control. He had to get her out of his mind…He had to…

* * *

It wasn't going to happen. A month and a half had passed since he'd spoken to Angelique on the train. All this time, he'd forced himself to keep his distance, to not even look at her when they were in the same class, to keep his voice silent when all he wanted to do was talk to her, hear that beautiful voice wash over him. Yet she occupied his mind at all times. It was like she had taken up permanent residence behind his eyes, which followed her whenever he thought no one would notice his attention. He noticed pretty quickly that she was always alone, so he tried to arrange it so he was never without a companion when they ran into each other. And still, he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He needed to get past this because it was a huge distraction.

Yet, when the opportunity to speak to her alone presented itself to him, he jumped at the chance. He was walking back from the Quidditch pitch after practice one afternoon when he stumbled upon Angelique sitting in a window, looking out over the Lake. The hallway was utterly deserted except for them.

He sat down beside her, watching her without trying to hide it. "Hello, Angelique," he murmured, glancing out the window.

"Blue Eyes White Dragon," she said by way of greeting.

"Excuse me?"

"Not important."

"Alright…"

"What brings you to my part of the zoo?" she asked, drawing her legs to her chest and tearing her gaze from the window in order to seek his.

"I…I grow tired of the normal people…Normal tends to be so boring."

"You want more firewhiskey?"

"No."

Angelique lowered her chin to her bent knees as she studied him. The way the sunlight caught her grey irises made them sparkle brightly. "You're the first," she said after a while.

"The first what?"

"To come back."

He shrugged. "So?"

"I'm just wondering why."

"I don't know," he admitted. That seemed to be enough for her, for she nodded and offered him a candy cigarette.

He smiled. "Thanks." His mind drifted back to her underwear lying under his pillow. How many times had she worn that purple thong? What was she wearing now? Pity he was sitting so close…If he were a bit farther back surely he'd see up that tiny skirt, especially with her legs bent as they were. He gulped, shifting away a little. _Damn_…the window was too small. He'd have to back up another foot to see anything worthwhile and he could only move another four inches at the most. He turned back to look out the window again. "So what've you been doing lately…? I haven't seen you much."

He felt her shrug. "Nothing really."

His eyes turned back to her. "You don't mind me being here, right?"

"Why would I?" she asked and he swore he heard an odd note of sadness in that question.

"I'm not exactly on the best of terms with your family."

She shrugged again and lowered her chin to her knees once more. He found himself shifting closer, letting the alluring scent of sweet-pea lotion wash over him. "I…Thanks for sharing your cache with me. I've never found getting drunk to be quite so much fun."

"Any time." Her big grey eyes met his and held. "I enjoyed our time together as well."

He smiled, unable to look away from that gaze. "It's a lot more fun than sitting alone, which is what I would've been doing if you hadn't been there."

"I would've been stuck counting the cracks in the windows. Which I had just been in the process of doing when you ruined my concentration."

"Sounds like a good time…" He chuckled.

"You saved me from a horrible fate."

"Glad I could be of service."

He watched a smile grow slowly across her face. She had such pretty lips… He hoped it wasn't too obvious, but his eyes dipped to those lips for a long moment as he wet his own. What would she taste like? Something really unique with the added flavor of the candy cigarette she'd just eaten…

He swallowed hard, looking back out the window as he tried to regain his composure. Why did she distract him so easily? What was it about her that was so damn appealing? Nearly everything…

His gaze drifted back to her quickly, admiring every inch he could see. He wanted to see more, so much more. Starting with what she was wearing beneath her skirt, a question that plagued him. He gulped again, clenching his fists. He wanted her. He couldn't deny it anymore. He _wanted _her. Angelique Black.

He swore under his breath. She was going to get him killed. Fuck. As his gaze moved back up to her face, he tried to convince himself to get out while he still could. But he couldn't, not when he realized she'd been watching him and her eyes were light with fire and need.

He sucked in a breath at that look before leaning closer to press their lips together. She tasted like candy…Nothing specific, just warm, sweet sugar and a hint of spice, like cinnamon. His hand moved into her hair, anchoring himself so he wasn't swept away by the kiss…This couldn't last. Couldn't even begin. He'd kill her without a second thought.

She moaned, her warmth filling his mouth and he felt his fingers tighten against the blast of need the sound evoked, tugging roughly at the silky strands he clutched so tightly. He pulled back, looking down into her eyes. She _would _be the death of him, he decided. Those smoldering grey depths would burn him alive.

He pried his gaze away, looking down at his hands as he tried to gain control of his traitorous body. An unbearable silence passed between them. One heartbeat, then another, and another…

"Oh," he finally heard her mumble.

"Oh?"

"Thank you." Her voice was soft and low. "For everything." And then she was suddenly gone.

He blinked at the spot she had just been occupying, his face flushing. _Oh God…I fucking kissed her…_And he wanted to do it again…and again…But he knew he couldn't.

He sat there for a while, he had no idea how long it was, then stood and walked to the dorm. It would be best if he avoided her. If he never spoke to her again. Best...for both of them.

He took her thong from under his pillow, meaning to put it in his suitcase. But he ended up sitting on his bed, holding it once more. He should destroy it, he thought, running his fingers over the purple silk. He should burn it…Maybe then he'd be freed from his obsession. But he couldn't bring himself to even let it go. Why _now_? He wanted her and he could very well end up killing her.

He sighed, hiding the fabric again as he lay back in his bed. He could still taste her…that sweet and spicy tang on his lips. The last kiss he'd ever get from her… It had been a _very _good kiss. He remembered her moan, the feel of her hair in his hands. He had to grow the fuck up…There'd be other women…Even if they weren't Angelique…

He had obligations. She was just a teenage girl. His interest in her would surely die. He could find someone a little less…complicating. _Anyone _else, really… He could not see her again. He couldn't talk to her. It was over. _Over_.


End file.
